Imbalance
by Silvia Blake
Summary: Lord Megatron and Optimus Prime have been caught in a never ending, but precariously balanced struggle since before the human race had language. That balance has been broken, and as Optimus' world begins to shatter Megatron is there, waiting with a smile.
1. Megatron

Megatron watched Optimus stare at him, past him, with a bottomless satisfaction. So much faith and hope in one being, one mech, and it had been foolishly placed in the pitiful creatures known as humans. Oh, how he would relish being the first to see Optimus Prime crumble. Already he could see the beginning wear of his wondrously treacherous truth. These humans almost made it too easy.

With a smug smirk Megatron leaned back in his restraints and rolled his head back onto his energy collar. So much profit for such little work, at least on his part, this time around, and now that the insufferable red mech, _Ironhide_, was gone no one would be able to pull Optimus back. No one would know how. He couldn't repress a chuckle at how auspicious the mech's death was. Admittedly Ironhide had never been a physical threat, but his stabilizing affect upon Optimus had more than once undone the meticulous work he had put into destroying the Prime.

Lulled into a light doze by the humming of Omega Supreme's systems Megatron powered off his optics and relaxed completely for the first time in vorns. He knew he was safe in Optimus's care.

"Why?"

Megatron's optics flickered like embers before stabilizing at half power. Luxuriously he stretched his limbs as much as he could in his confinements before rolling his head forward so he could look at the Prime. "Excuse me?" He rumbled, his words laced with a soft static from his dozing.

Optimus had finally come back from wherever his processor had taken him and was now staring at Megatron's chest plates. The Prime shifted forward so that his elbows were supported by his knees as he spoke once more, "Why, Megatron? Why?"

The Warlord felt his relaxed mood souring like energon left out in Cybertron's rain. They were going to do this again? Here, now? They had to do this again? Before Megatron could spit out a particularly scathing comment Optimus spoke again.

"You took Kaon to prove you could, to show the Council what was coming. You took Vos next knowing the Seekers were dissatisfied, and that in order to win you would need their support. Then you tried for Praxus, and over extended yourself. You had to level the city to prove that all those that defied you would be wiped out. After that it was conquest. Mindless and all consuming." For a moment Optimus paused, and Megatron felt a faint stirring of surprise as he noticed the Prime's hands were shaking. "And then we expanded. We took our war to the stars. Planets, moons, astroids, it didn't matter. Wherever we met, we clashed, without thought... and then we came here."

The weight of Optimus's tone struck a strange chord in Megatron's spark. Slowly his optics powered fully as he stared at the hunched Prime. This planet had done something to all of them, Autobot, Decepticon, no one, it seemed, could escape its strangle hold. Not even Prime. A smile formed on his faceplate as he continued to stare at Prime. He may hate the inhabitants, but as he watched Optimus he couldn't resist the intense surge of gratitude he felt for them, and their amazing ability to destroy everything they touched.

"And here everything escalated. Ore 13, facsimiles, Starscream's grab for power... Devestator. You were willing to offline us a-"

"No, I was not." At the interruption Optimus's optics snapped up and locked with Megatron's. The Warlord still smiled as he explained to Prime as one would to a simpleton, "I was willing to offline your men. I was willing to kill the humans. I was willing to wipe out all the indigenous life of this planet, and strip mine it for everything it was worth. I," He put emphasis on his words for Optimus's benefit. "Was not planning on allowing your death, although when you began spouting sanctimonious drivel about protecting the humans I seriously reconsidered my choice."

Optimus continued to stare at him for some time before asking in what could have been a weaker voice, though Megatron wouldn't swear to it, "Why?"

Megatron's smile became sharp and dangerous as he stared back into Optimus's optics. "Because, as I've said Optimus, I want to destroy you. Offlining you has nothing to do with it."

Megatron didn't bother to track how long Optimus stayed, it was the fact that the Prime stayed at all that told the Warlord that he would win. Maybe soon, maybe later, but he _would_ win. When Optimus finally stood and walked out of the room Megatron chuckled in satisfaction. He could practically taste the first stage's of death of Optimus Prime's faith.


	2. Optimus

Optimus felt numb.

The brown-red alien rock that surrounded him held no comfort, no familiarity, no feeling of safety. It felt like a hand on his throat, and a knee in his gut. As it crumbled, soft and strange beneath his fingers, revulsion turned his tanks, but he had no energon to purge. The thought of eating had caused the same sick feeling that now plagued him.

Wind screamed through the cliffs, and hurtled passed him without care or pause. He stood still, and silent, basking in the force of nature. It was nothing like Cybertron, like home, but it would do... for now.

Pale optics wandered up the cliff face until they reached the stars. Optimus had to activate his light filters to even see half the stars that should have blanketed the night sky of this organic world. So much light here on this planet Earth. So much pollution, and destruction. So much waste. He scoured the sky for familiar constellations, or even one familiar star, but all he saw was unknown. Alien. Terrifying. And these creatures, these humans, were afraid of them? The lost, the broken, the alone.

A harsh sound akin to a dieing engine slammed through the cliffs, and scratched against his audios until it was unbearable. Optimus's hands slapped over his finials in desperation to keep the sound out, and realized belatedly that he was laughing. The sound was him. Only him. Optimus viciously bit onto his inner cheek plates until the sound stopped, and he tasted his own energon. The taste centered him, and quelled the rising hysteria.

Optimus stood still again as he reached within his own mind for a memory of strength, and peace. Anything to stave off the jangling bells of fear, and uncertainty. Anything to make his world still for a moment. In answer a memory teasingly brushed through his processors. Knowing better than to snatch at it Optimus let the bit of saved code come at its own pace until finally it gently landed at the forefront of his processors.

Warm laughter erupted in his mind followed closely by the sounds of... battle? No, sparring. The memory painted itself upon the alien landscape he had been looking at once before.

Ironhide shot him a rueful smile as the much older mech weaved lightly back and forth before him. "Come on Prime, aincha 'sposed ta be impressive. Big mech on the battlefield 'n' all that slag. Look more like a glitched younglin' with ideas of grandeur."

The well hidden streak of mischievousness within Optimus put a flare on his words as he goaded in return, "At least I have room to improve, old gears, unlike some I'm not rusted out already."

Ironhide's optics went wide as he rolled back on his heels. Mouth pursing in displeasure he replied, "I'm gonna have ta knock that mouth off'a ya, Prime."

Dropping into a low crouch, optics alight with humor, and smirk playing at his mouth Optimus said with mock seriousness, "You couldn't knock the red off of a Decepticon, you rustbucket."

Immediately after he was finished Ironhide charged him as the young Prime had known he would. Laughing Optimus side stepped only to find himself knocked off his feet, and flat on his back. Startled, but undeterred he began to roll to his feet only to find an arm wrapped around his neck cables, and fingers digging into his backplates. He thrashed in his awkward hunched position, but as much as he twisted and strained for freedom none was forthcoming. The fingers finally stopped digging, and grabbed a spinal wire. Everything below his waist went numb, and he collapsed face first into the sparring room floor. Optimus froze as his processor whirled at the sudden helplessness of his situation.

Just as quickly as he'd become immobilized, he was free; sensation rushing back into his lower limbs, and neck cables free of pressure. Pushing himself up onto his knees, Optimus turned, and looked up at Ironhide. The seasoned warrior looked down at him from bright pale optics, arms folded, and legs planted firmly on the ground. For a moment Optimus could understand exactly why Ironhide had been such a feared presence, was still feared even, on the battlefield.

"Now what have you learned?" Slowly Ironhide's optics began to cycle down to the normal blue, the white centers fading.

"Not to call you a rustbucket?" Optimus ducked his head as he realized that his voice sounded higher than normal.

Ironhide rumbled dangerously for a moment before he kneeled, and caught Optimus's chin in his left hand, his right reaching around to tap over the panels that he'd had grabbed to immobilize the Prime. "The lesson ya were 'sposed ta take from that Prime," He drawled irritatedly. "Was that no matter yer opponent yer weak spots are still the same. While smaller mechs are, generally, weaker they've got dexterity, and speed ta make up fer that. Bigger mechs are easier ta spot, and slower, sometimes, but if they tried that move," Once again Ironhide tapped Optmus's back panels. "They could rip out yer entire back not just pinched a couple of wires."

Tiredly Ironhide released Optimus, and sat back with a huff of vents. "We can't lose ya, Prime. Yer not invincible, an' as safe as these spare sessions are they're 'sposed ta be preparin' ya for the real deal."

"I know, Ironhide, I know." Optimus felt guilt crawl up his back, but he shrugged it off. He was safe, his soldiers safe, and closest friend safe, until they moved from Helix. "You're still a rustbucket."

Ironhide glowered, frown deepening until he seriously looked at Optimus. Whatever he saw there made him throw back his head, and laugh. The older mech took a swing at Optimus's head, but didn't truly aim the friendly blow as he replied, "'N' yer still an irritatin' younglin'."

The memory faded from his optics, and left Optimus feeling weak. Stumbling back he collided with the side of a severe cliff, and slid down the rock until he was sitting on the canyon floor. He'd thought that the reminiscing would lift his spirits instead it had ripped open a still fresh wound. Ironhide was gone. Forever.

Ironhide had been his most suspicious, and severe critic when he'd first gained power, even more so than Grimlock who had scoffed at the very idea of a data-clerk being Prime. Then his harshest, and most supportive mentor. It was only after the Shattering of Praxus had the ancient warrior stepped out of his role as mentor, and become Prime's Shadow.

Prowl had argued against Ironhide using the title since there was no longer a Council to test and approve of Ironhide even as a candidate, but Ironhide had fought just as hard to keep it. They had argued until Optimus had intervened, reminding both that the ultimate decision laid on the Prime's shoulders of wether or not he accepted the mech as his Shadow. That had silenced them both for some time, and for just as long Optimus counciled himself, the Matrix, and, to his surprise, Kup. The mech that most teased about being old enough to have been everywhere, and done everything had, had interesting views to balance out Optimus's own contemplations.

Finally he had approached Ironhide in Polyhex, and and accepted the older mech as his Shadow. Optimus, even now, could not remember Ironhide being happier or more honored. Prowl had at first disapproved, but as the Praxian had watched Ironhide fill the honored position of being Prime's closest councilman, bodyguard, and companion he relaxed. Ironhide knew better than most what being Prime's Shadow meant, and he did not allow himself to waver in his duties, not even once.

And now the mech that had always been just a step behind Optimus was gone. The absence of the stubborn mech made Optimus's spark ache every moment of every day, espescially since Ironhide's death had beenOptimus's own fualt. He had ordered the mech to protect Hot Rod and Prowl, and true to his duty, Ironhide had done just that. The last thing he had said to his Shadow was what caused his death.

Optimus's vents hiccuped painfully. He should be thrilled. Megatron, Lord of the Decepticons, Warlord of Kaon, was currently bound inside of Omega Supreme with no way to escape, and if he tried Omega would crush the vicious tyrant to death within moments. He should be thrilled. Should be.

The Prime's head rolled back to rest against the soft alien red rock of the cliff, and he gazed up at the stars. A disturbing realization made his entire body shudder. The red optics of his most hated enemy were more of a comfort than his view of the sky. Optimus closed his optics, and wished he could be just another soldier for once in his life.


End file.
